Reunion
by Jack Coffison
Summary: Life was always chaotic- naturally for Stan, Cartman, Kenny, Kyle and Butters it just got worse. Everyone has their own problems. But could an out-of-the-blue reunion give everyone the help they need? ONESHOT


The shelter was dirty- stained with blood and dirt, and a whole range of things that he just didn't want to think about. All that he was interested in was his own private little study area. An old desk in the corner of the room, a few candles and a worn down pencil with a pink rubber on the end.

His notes were scattered all over the place. As were the photos, a few cellphones, passports and a single block of pure cocaine. Every time he looked at the white block of narcotics- he was always astounded, and somewhat disgusted. That block probably cost about ten million dollars, and all it was was another way for someone to slowly kill themselves. He shivered, and realized that he was still wearing a winter jacket.

He almost smiled. At the moment, he was deep into some of the more unchartered parts of Africa and it was beyond humid in the midst of the jungle. He had come upon this village only yesterday- back then it had been a full war zone. Now it was over, and although the city was in ruins he still had to stay and document everything. That was the job, basically. He had to prove that unforgivable violence was happening in these off-chart villages, or else no one would come to help.

There were only two things that Stan Marsh really thought about in his adult life. Helping people, and helping animals. Usually, he tended to put animals first- because he of all people knew what heartless bastards people could be when they wanted to be. He was always unsure if Investigative Journalism was the right career path for him. In the beginning, he had hoped to just live... peacefully.

Unfortunately- that didn't work out. Neither did anything else, either. There had been times, in high school especially, that Stan had dreamed of leaving the small mountain town of South Park. But it had almost been eight years now and he had to admit... he was begining to miss it.

He always had to remind himself of his actual age. He felt like he was in his late-fifties, but he was still only twenty-seven years old. Still, considering the amount of aches and pains he had during the day- he may as well have been in his sixties or seventies.

Stan mumbled incoherently about 'bastard genetics' as he sat himself down in front of his desk. He had lost track of how long he had been in Africa- but he guessed that it had probably been about six months now. Between the searching for villages and the desperate fighting for his life against the warring villages, Stan had a lot of time on his hands. Sometimes, he would use that time to sleep or maybe do a bit of light writing for his autobiography.

He still hadn't thought of a title yet, but he figured that having the words 'crazy ass' in there somewhere would probably be justified.

Subconsciously- Stan ran his thumb over his wedding ring. It always calmed him. Just a little, but at least enough to get back to sleep. Unfortunately, that evening... felt like yet another all-nighter. He sat back in his chair- running his hands through his short, black hair.

Usually, passing spare time came fairly easily to Stan. He had been in boring situations between crazy, hectic ones all of his life. So, he did the usual. He remembered the Terrance and Phillip Movie- fondly, and mouthed the words to all of the songs to himself. Then his thoughts began to drift back a little more- to the past... he could almost feel the cold breeze wash across his face, as Cartman and Kyle verbally abused each other in the background. Kenny flipped through an old Hustler magazine, and for a split second everything froze.

Stan took a long deep breath.

Peace.

Serenity.

Stan breathed out, and allowed the ghost of a smile to creep up to his lips.

Cartman and Kyle were yelling at each other... their voiced slowly became distorted. Indistinguishable. And then- he felt the whole room begin to shake as the loud sounds of helicopter blades echoed through the empty village.

Stan stood out of his chair, and frowned. The noise had stopped, but he was sure that whoever it was had landed nearby. He was just about to reach for his gun- when he heard a loud banging at the door.

"AY! ASSHOLE, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"

Stan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

_'No... no, it couldn't be...'_

Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing the shapely form of Eric Theodore Cartman. "C'mon, douche-bag- no time for some gay little reunion. You gotta get on this helicopter nyah!" he yelled.

Stan was too shocked to say anything- so he simply cleaned up his things and quietly put them into a bag- before following Cartman to the Helicopter.

He obviously hadn't changed much. He was still pretty fat, and definitely still a selfish egotistic bastard- but Stan had never expected either of those things to change. What he expected of Cartman involved either life-time imprisonment or a seat in Washington DC.

Still a little over-whelmed by Cartmans sudden appearence, Stan boarded the Helicopter without a word. He pushed his bag into the corner and sat down on one of the padded seats. Cartman was quick to follow, and after yelling something at the pilot, he sat down next to Stan.

"Alright, listen up asshole. This entire place is going to become a war zone in a manner of minutes, so we need to get the fudge out of here."

Stan blinked. "Wha-" something caught in his throat, and Stan coughed. He hadn't spoken in a while... he wondered briefly if he had forgotten how. "Uh- fatass... Wha- what the fuck are you talking about?" he asked.

"Don't call me fat, butt-fucker! And the leader of those rebel assholes is dead so the shits gunna spew all over the place!"

"Sick, dude."

Cartman snorted. "Ah killed the asshole mah-self so I would know" he said, grinning at the shocked face that had presented itself on Stans face. "Hey, killing assholes is a part of meh job nyah. I'm not some douchy little reporter like you."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, fatass."

Cartman rubbed his fingers through his hair and rubbed the beads of sweat off his forehead. "How the fuck do you stay in this hell-hole? It is so haaawwt!" he grumbled. Stan shrugged in response, before looking out the window at the passing jungle.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Stahn? Your being all quiet and its freaking me out." said Cartman.

Stan looked at his childhood friend again, and sighed. "Um, what are you doing now, Cartman? I thought you were done after that thing with the Disney corporation." he asked. Cartman shrugged, "I wasn't gonna let that stupid mouse keep me down. Ah just got to mah feet and the next thing you know- Ah'm a kickass CIA agent."

"What!"

"Uh-huh, like I said. Mah job now is to kill assholes who are a threat to America. Pretty fuckin' sweet, huh?"

Stan nodded. "Yeah... I guess it is..."

Slowly, but surely, Stan and Cartman fell into comfortable conversation. It was just like it had been in the past. Despite their incredibly vast differences- they just seemed to click. Rarely, yes. But still, there was a reason why they had become friends in the first place. Beyond being fans of Terrance and Phillip, and beyond Cartman having a mom that cooked the greatest food in town... it all came down to something that none of them could identify. It was almost as if they were destined to be friends.

Whether they liked it, or not.

"And his brains totally sprayed all out of his _nose, _hahahaha!"

"Dude!"

"Aw, lighten up Stahn. Its funny."

Stan shook his head to a slight, and decided to change the topic of their conversation. "So, uh- where do you live now?" he asked.

Cartman looked as if he was about to ask about the sudden change of topic, but in an extremely rare moment of 'kindness', he decided to ignore it. "Uh, I like, live heaps of places. But I have a house in DC, and one in Colorado. Since mah mom died -my moms dead by the way- I've just sorta been busy and stuff. But I like, know some stuff about cooking and shit- so its kewl. Tuesday nights are pizza night. Sweet."

Stan sat up. "Oh shit!"

"What? I don't _make_ the pizza I get it from Pizza Hut or something."

"No, dumbass! I don't have a place to live! That shitty little room was all I had!"

Cartman snorted. "Its not my fucking problem. Steve's flying to South Park right now anyways- you can stay with your parents."

Stan frowned. "Yeah- uh, whatever."

Cartman shrugged. "Yeah, whatever dude. Go to sleep, we'll be there in a while- I'll wake you up when we get to my jet."

"Your jet?"

"Yes. My jet."

* * *

Eric Cartman had his own, private jet.

_The 'Killjoo'._

Stan didn't know whether to be surprised or just shake his head at the incredible injustice of the world. Eventually, he decided on mumbling _"Dude, that's pretty fucked up right there"_before following Cartman into his house. The place was massive, like a mansion, and while Cartman had his people fuelling his jet, he had decided to sit down on the sofa and watch TV.

Naturally, the screen was about the size of the wall. Like Cartman always said; size matters.

Stan couldn't remember the last time he had sat down and watched TV, especially in colour. Sitting like this, tuning out the sound of Cartmans obnoxious laughter at the news, reminded him even more of his younger days. It seemed like that was all he could do lately.

Remember.

Maybe it had been a sign of what was to come, but Stan didn't really believe in things like that- mostly because he had a wide range of bad experiences with fortune tellers, magicians and hippies. From the way Cartman laughed hysterically at the news report about a group of hippies being burned alive, Stan could tell that the fat bastard hadn't changed in the slightest. Other than his voice being a little deeper and slightly worn- there was no change what-so-ever.

He hadn't expected there to be. Even at Stans wedding day, Cartman had been the crude monster he had always been. Of course, technically, Kenny was no different. After all, his wedding toasts involved the sort of thing that would make Penthouse Forum blush. But unlike Cartman, Kenny didn't start a food fight in the middle of the reception.

Although maybe finding him in a closet with three of the brides maids could be considered equally bad... Stan still hadn't really decided on that yet. After all, he had always had more pressing matters to think about than who ruined his wedding. Frankly it had been everyones fault.

In retrospect, maybe hiring Timmy and the Lords of the Underworld to play at the reception had not been the best idea in the world...

Cartman snapped Stan out of his musings by clicking his fingers in front of his face.

"Ay, Stan- your not all coked up or something are you?"

"No."

"Well what the fuck are you being so quiet for? Look! Fried hippies! Isn't that shit funny to you?"

Stan sighed. "Yeah, a little. Uh- Cartman, wheres your bathroom?"

"What do they always say in the movies?"

"Huh?"

"Down the hall and to the right, dumbass."

"Oh yeah. Thanks."

Cartman simply shrugged, and turned his attention back to the TV. Stan found the bathroom reletively easily, and was quick to find the bathroom sink to splash some water on his face. When he looked in the mirror, he had to stare for a while before he realized who exactly it was staring back at him.

His face was tanned and brown, a result of over-exposure to sunlight and the inability to find anyplace to bathe for the past few months. Stan was surprised that Cartman hadn't commented on it earlier. He ran his fingers through the ugly black beard that covered about half of his face. He never thought that it had grown _that_ long. The first time he felt it growing Stan sort of just assumed that it wouldn't grow so much and get all... scruffy.

"I look like a homeless person... Although I guess I technically _am..._"

After borrowing some clothes from Cartman, Stan prepared to have his first shower in a very long time. As the soothing hot water rushed over his body, he stared at his feet and watched as the muddy water slowly ran down the drain. After that, he got out slowly and cut off his beard with a pair of scissors and a razor.

Like his father taught him.

By the time Cartman had decided that it was time to leave, Stan looked like a different person. Although to Cartmans slight disgust, the tan stayed. His clothes were almost twice Stans size, but it almost seemed to suit him. It definitely made him look even scrawnier- which Cartman had doubted to be humanly possible.

"Well, its nice to see you don't look like a sand-monkey anymore Stan. Come on, the jets ready. I'll fly us to South Park- it'll only take like ten minutes or something."

"_You._ _Your_ going to fly?"

"Yes, asshole. Clean out your fuckin' ears."

Stan followed Cartman to the runway, while he flipped through a small pile of letters in his hand.

"Junk. Shit. Bullcrap- wait, what the fuck is this?"

Cartman threw the other letters to the floor, and ignored the maids who rushed over to clean it all up. "Stan, did you hear about this?"

Cartman pushed an envelope into Stan's chest, and awaited his old friends answer with his arms crossed over his chest. Stan looked at the envelope._ 'South Park Elementary School'_ read the return address. With a curious frown, Stan opened the envelope and pulled out a small purple piece of paper.

_'You are cordially invited to the first ever South Park Elementary Fourth Grade Reunion'_

Stan gaped.

"Wha- seriously?"

Cartman sighed. "Aw, fuck. I heard that stupid thing was going on- I musta forgot the time... oh well- I'll stay with you for the reunion and kill two birds with one stone."

Stan was about to protest- or maybe just ask why anyone would have a _f____ourth grade_reunion, but Cartman had already stepped out onto the landing strip. With an angry grunt, Stan dropped the letter and the envelope and jogged after him.

Perhaps, if he had only inspected that envelope a little better, he would have noticed that there wasn't a single stamp on the front, and the hand writing had been very messy.

Almost... familiar.

Cartman grinned as he strapped himself into the jet, and Stan took the back seat.

Everything was going according to plan...

* * *

Kenny McCormick had lived in South Park for all of his life. In fact, he was the only one out of his group of friends that had absolutely zero drive to go anywhere else. Stan had just been married- so of course, he wanted to go have a family in Denver. Kyle probably left mainly to get away from his mother- but after being educated in places like Paris and Britain over the course of his high school years, it was no surprise that Kyle left for greener pastures. Soon enough, he had become a published writer and was well on his way to becoming a politician.

Of course, that kept him in competition with Cartman all the time, but he tended to thrive whenever he was trying to defeat Cartman. Kenny didn't really know much about what happened to Cartman. Only that he seemed to fall off the face of the Earth a little while, something that Kyle had a hard time hiding his happiness about.

Out of all of his old friends from elementary school, Kenny saw Butters the most. Not in person of course, but on the television. Whenever Kenny had woken up around six-ish in the morning in a drunken haze, he would turn on the TV to watch Butters' alter-ego 'Happy Sunshine' teach kids about the importance of sharing- and things like that. It was good for a laugh whenever he was particularly drunk.

It seemed like lately, all Kenny had been doing was drinking- to the point where he feared that it may have been a genetic disease given to him from his father. But Kenny wasn't violent, and he most definitely knew what his limits were. The fact that he died once or twice a day seemed to help a little too. He never hit anyone in a drunk driving incident- because he was always the victim.

At that particular moment, Kenny had taken a seat at the bar right infront of the TV, and took long, slow sips of beer as he watched Craig Tucker report the news. Kenny had worn the same clothes all of his life, an orange parka and brown gloves. Even at twenty-seven, he never stopped. Although most of the bigger parka coats tended to have holes and tears in them, as well as the odd splatter of blood, Kenny didn't mind. He had jeans and a tuxedo shirt at home whenever he needed to get fancy.

"And on local news- the reunion for the Mr Herbert Garrisons fourth grade class is being held tomorrow night, and almost everyone from the class is expected to show up. Even... even me... god damn it..."

Craig hadn't changed much either, even after becoming the news anchor for the South Park local news. His voice had always seemed a little annoying to Kenny, so it took a few seconds for him to realize what it was that Craig had said. A force of habit, stemming from years of ignoring him.

"Fourth grade reunion?" he muttered to himself. "Damn, I guess I should show up for some free food or something..."

With that thought, Kenny downed the rest of his beer and after a loud, crude burp- he left the bar and walked to his small apartment on the 'other side of the tracks' or the ghetto, as Cartman so nicely called it. Kenny had always been farely fearless, obviously due to him being unable to die. He wasn't afraid to do the most disgusting things in the world and he certainly wasn't afraid to die. So the prospect of being robbed, while unappealing, was something that Kenny didn't fear at all.

He had been robbed once, by an old childhood friend named DogPoo. To this day, Kenny still didn't know if that was simply a nickname, or if his parents had actually named his DogPoo. Frankly, Kenny couldn't care less. He had kicked him square in the nuts and just walked away. DogPoo never bothered Kenny again after that.

After rummaging around his pockets for a few minutes, Kenny finally found the key to door, and strode into his apartment with a small smile on his face.

"Ello, Kenny."

Kenny almost jumped at the sound of the voice, and was quick to find the light switch on the side of the wall next to him. The apartment lit up- revealing the sort of messy room you would expect from some stoner college kid.

"Oh... its you."

* * *

Stan knocked on the front door of his old home with some hesitance. He wasn't sure exactly how long it had been since he last spoke to his parents, but he was pretty sure it had been more than a year now. He had no idea of knowing how they would react to seeing their little boy again after so long, all tanned and eerily silent.

Stan silently told himself that everything would be okay. They were his _parents_ after all.

He knocked on the door, and this time it opened- but he was greeted by the very last person he expected to see.

Stan's grandfather looked up at him wearily, and pressed a button on his wheelchair to draw him a little closer. "What the hell do you want, pecker-face? Your not another one of those Jehovah bastards are you?"

Stan smiled. "Its me Grandpa. Stan."

Stan's Grandpas eyes widened. "Billy? What're you doing out there in the cold like some kind of idiot? Come inside." Stan chuckled as he strode inside. "Sorry to come out of the blue like this, Grandpa. But could you let me stay here tonight?" he asked, politely.

"Oh- your here for that reunion thing tommorow night?"

"Uh... yeah, sure."

Stan's Grandpa nodded, "Alright then, you can take your old room- as long as your not going to complain about sleeping on your fathers new pool table. Your parents are out for the weekend, I think they're taking another one of those fancy cruises or something."

As Stan nodded along to his Grandfathers mumbling about a range of his day to day aggravations, he slowly made his way up to his old room. "Alright, Grandpa. I'll see you in the morning."

"What? Oh- sure, goodnight, Billy."

With that, Stan found himself lying directly underneath his father new pool table, wrapped up in some old bed sheets. For the first time in a very long time, he fell asleep without any problems.

It felt good to be home.

* * *

Both the morning and the afternoon had been uneventful so far. Stan had been spending all of his time inside, absently snacking and watching TV. He really didn't want to go to some stupid little reunion- especially when everyone was just going to be staring at him with pity in their eyes...

Stan ran his thumb over his wedding finger again, and sighed. He had promised Cartman earlier that he would go, although why Cartman was so eager for it to happen was beyond him. Breaking promises to Eric Cartman never really tended to work in any-ones favour, so he had been leaning towards just biting the bullet and going, when he heard a loud knocking at the front door.

Stan stood himself up off the couch, and answered the door.

"Hello Stan."

A smile crept onto Stan's face when he saw his oldest, dearest friend standing at the doorway.

Kyle Broflovski. He hadn't changed a bit.

"Can I come in?"

Stan nodded, "Um- yeah. You want a coffee or something?"

Kyle shrugged off his jacket and placed it on the coat rack before giving Stan a nod. By the time Kyle had sat himself down on the sofa, Stan had already made the coffee, and handed it gingerly to his jewish friend.

"So how have you been Stan? Its been a real long time."

Stan shrugged. "I've just been doing some free-lance journalism stuff up in Africa. Not much else though- I visited Jerusalem."

"Really? How was it?"

"I... I didn't really get to do much sight seeing. I was sorta busy tracking down this renown animal hunter- some big tough asshole from Texas. I forget what he called himself."

Kyle nodded. "I heard about that. Your endeavours in the area of Animal Protection are quite well-known, even among my community. You have done remarkably well for yourself."

Stan looked confused. "What are you, some kind English Gentlemen all of a sudden? I still remember the time that you set fire to the girls club house in second grade."

Kyle chuckled, "Sorry, Stan. I've been in politics for too long. Its almost like all I can speak is douche-bag." Stan laughed and nodded. Perhaps Kyle _had _changed a little. Now looking up close, Stan was genuinely surprised to spot a thin, red moustache just above his top lip, and a small scar just underneath his left eye.

Naturally, thing that piqued Stan's curiosity the most was the gay little moustache- not the scar. "Dude, what up with the gay little moustache?"

Kyles hand immediately rose to his lip, "Aw, I thought it made me look cool- Heidi said that it did..." Stan chortled, "Something tells me she was just being nice, Magnum."

"Shut up, dude."

Slowly but surely, Stan and Kyle fell into the same old routine that they had always had. For an outside observer, it would probably be difficult to tell that the two of them hadn't seen each other for over a decade. Their goodbye to each other, just after high school graduation hadn't been the incredible chick-flick moment that Cartman and Kenny had been expecting. Instead, they simply shook hands and promised to meet up again soon. Apparently though, this way still gay enough for Cartman and Kenny to roll their eyes.

Kyle left for some big name college -Stan had forgotten the name- and eventually, Kyle found himself helping his old classmate Heidi Turner out of some trouble with the government. Apparently their had been some kind of colossal mix-up, and the President was convinced that she had been pocessed by the ghost of Saddam Hussein. That entire fiasco had been the reason for two big life decisions for Kyle. The first one was his descision to get into politics and try to purge out all of the stupid assholes- which even now, five years later, was proving to be more and more difficult- and asking Heidi to marry him.

It was funny, really. Heidi and Kyle had never even spoken to each other all throughout grade school and high school- and now here they were. Happily married. Obviously it hadn't exactly been a fairy tale romance. First Kyle had to spend a day arguing with his father that marrying an Atheist wasn't the worst thing in the world, and then another day trying to convince his mother that he wasn't gay.

She still didn't really believe him, which was made evident by the way she kept on buying him theatre tickets for his birthday. Kyle had watched 'Rent' more times than he would ever like to admit, and if he hadn't realized that he could get away with just giving them to his secretary William _(who was definitely the 'theatre' type) _he probably would have gouged out his eyes by now.

All things considered, Kyle lived a fairly happy life- despite being constantly thrown into overly complicated life or death situations, much like his friends. Honestly, it was like their destiny to just be dragged into these things for the rest of their lives. Maybe Craig was right.

They really did have some insane problems.

* * *

The old basketball court in South Park Elementary School had been completely made over. Not only were there the usual colorful party decorations such as balloons, streamers, confetti and more- there were an incredible array of paintings strewn across the walls. All of them were like pictures, of some of the great memories the fourth grade class of South Park Elementary school.

Jimmy and Timmy with their friends the Crips and the Bloods, Tweek running from a swarm of evil Underpants Gnomes, Token in his singing debut- and a small picture of the five friends Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Cartman and Butters, waiting at the bus stop.

Butters Stotch chewed nervously on the end of his paint brush. His third wife, Emily 'Moon Child' Taylor had been the one who taught him how to paint. He had gotten off on the wrong foot with the world of painting, after accidentally causing the deaths of about five or six people in his first art class. But after a few weeks of severe mental therapy and electro-shock treatment (where funnily enough, he had ran into Tweek more than once) he managed to get over his under-developed painting phobia and after a few years, he found himself honing an incredible talent.

It was so incredible in fact, that the producers of his hit morning television programme 'The Butters Show' even allowed him to paint most of the sets and props. 'The Butters Show' was by far the thing that Butters was the most proud of in all of his life. He was making kids real happy, and getting paid for it. He even got to continue the legacy of Professor Chaos on the show- although he cut down the 'evil' a smidge for the kiddies.

To Butters, the only thing that he was a little down on his luck about was his relationships with women. He had been married a total of five times in his short life now. The first time had been at the young age of sixteen, with a girl named Patty Nelson. What Butters hadn't realized however, was that it had all been a sham to cover up the fact that Patty was gay. Of course, it took an explosive outcome for her to finally admit it, and although Butters had thought that he had been made the luckiest person in the world, he was still happy for her. There was no way he couldn't be.

The rest of his marriages seemed to involve the some kind of scheme that he ended up paying the price for. The second time had been with a girl named Consuela- who ran as soon as she got a green card after the fact. Then there was Emily- who he caught in bed with her sworn enemy, the CEO of BP.

The fourth had been the best and the worst. Julie was as pure and kind as he was, and one of the most beautiful things that Butters had ever seen. It was the best one because she made his days brighter, and the worst because after she died, the days never looked the same.

In that respect, he was the only one in South Park that could really understand Stan's pain.

The fifth had been purely on the rebound. A drug addicted ex-stripper he had mistakenly married after a night of drinking with Kenny. Butters had only had maybe one shot- and then everything went blank.

He had tried to make it work, but it eventually fell apart just like all of the others. He had really tried, but maybe the fact that even now he didn't know her name, was a sign that it was never meant to be.

Perhaps it was ironic, that the girl he had become closest too in the world over the years, had been the source of his very first life shattering heart break. Lexus had been forced out of Raisins once she hit thirteen, so she lived most of her high school life without that all-essential money boost that she had all through third grade. But she managed to get through the rest of her school life fairly easily. Being extremely pretty and superficial practically guaranteed her a spot with the 'it' crowd.

It wasn't until her early twenties, when she managed to get a job with her ex-boyfriend Craig Tucker on the local news station that she really spoke to Butters again. He had been with Julie at the time, and he just... glowed. They had slowly developed a weak work-orientated relationship, in that Lexus kept on mistaking him for an assistant and asking for coffee. Being the kind person he was, Butters always did it, which never helped in correcting her bad assumption. It actually took a while for her to realize that he in fact _wasn't_ her personal assistant.

But she continued to treat him that way anyway, after all- it didn't seem to be hurting him.

After Julie died, everything changed. All of a sudden Lexus had become the shoulder for him to cry on, and she couldn't help but think that if she had went with Kenny and Butters to the bar that night, _they _would have gotten drunk-married. Because ever since Butters and her started to form a friendship, she had began to feel something else.

That was why, at the moment, she was standing right beside him, helping to paint the walls of the old South Park Elementary Gym. She just... couldn't say no to him anymore. She almost wished for the days when _he _was the one being messed around by _her._

"Your doing really well, Lexus! Thanks again for sayin' you'd help me. I'd never've gotten all of this done in time without your help!" Butters chirped.

Lexus smiled weakly at his smiling face. She had known him long enough to know that he was getting nervous, not that the whole rubbing his knuckles together thing didn't make it fairly obvious.

"Uh- so... A fourth grade reunion, huh? That's a little weird... Did you come up with this, sweetie?"

Lexus kicked herself internally. She _still _couldn't kick that habit of calling everyone 'sweetie' and 'honey'. It had been just a regular part of who she was for a very long time, so naturally she had never thought twice about it. Of course, lately whenever she talked to Butters, she just couldn't stop second guessing herself. Because yes, she had fallen in love with him, but more than that... she just never wanted to see him sad ever again.

Ever since that first time she saw him broken down in the Janitors closet after quitting time... she just could never remove that image from her mind. Even before the _feelings_ began to develop.

Butters, the epitome of 'ignorance is bliss', simply smiled and told that it had been someone elses idea- but the painting had been all his.

"I don't know who it was exactly, but its an awful good idea, huh? I mean, I can't wait to see everyone again. Token, Jimmy... I wonder if Eric'll come... I mean, he's been missing for so long..." Butter noticed that he had began to whisper to himself, and decided to change the subject. "Are you sure your going to be alright? I know you don't know anyone that's coming..."

"Um, I used to talk to one of the fourth grader back then..."

"Really? Well, who?"

"Bebe Stevens, I think. She was nice... I-" Lexus stopped mid-sentence when she noticed the somber expression that had took over Butters' face.

"Uh, L-Lexus... Bebe..."

Butters was cut off by the sound of the big metal doors into the Gym slamming together. The sound thundered through the Gym, making both Lexus and Butters flinch- and nearly drop their respective paint pallets.

"The fuck is going ahn?"

Butters smiled, and turned around to see Eric Cartman standing at the doors with his arms folded over his chest. He looked mildly annoyed, but other wise fairly void of emotion. Which, like always, made Butters his polar opposite.

"Eric! Your here! I don't believe it, I- I thought you were gone forever. But, I guess Kenny was right!" With that, Butters ran over to Cartman, and was just about to give him a hug when Cartman- still devoid of any real emotion- palmed him square in the face.

"Don't hug me, sicko. Ah'm no faggot."

Butters, with some tears in his eyes, flipped Cartman off as he slowly stood himself up. Cartman relaxed his posture and offered Butters a helping hand. A primarily hurt-Butters-only gesture. He did have an image to keep, after all.

"Alright Butters, when is thing going down? I want to get all of this over and done with as soon as possible."

"Uh- the guests aren't arriving for another hour- but you can stay here and help Lexus and I until then..."

Cartman let out a low annoyed grunt, "Sure, I'll help. I'll help by telling you to stop the gay paintings already. That's enough, dude. Seriously. Now where's the food?"

Butters gaped. "Oh no! The food! Lexus, can you stay here with Eric while I go talk to Mr Mackey?" Without stopping to hear her answer, Butters rushed through the gym doors- leaving Cartman and Lexus completely alone.

"Sup, bitch?"

Lexus flinched. _How_ was this guy friends with Butters again?

* * *

The evening arrived faster than Stan and Kyle had expected, and soon enough Heidi's car had pulled up in front of the Marsh house to drive them over to the reunion party.

Kyle stood up immediately at the sound of the car horn blaring outside. "Come on, Stan. That's us. I asked Heidi to pick up the both of us, do you mind?"

Stan blinked. "No, actually I didn't really have anyway to get there anyway. I'm sort of... in between drivers licence's."

Kyle chuckled, before taking his coat off of the coat rack. "Come on, we can't be too late- I want to be able to get some food before all of those other assholes eat it all."

"What are you, Cartman?"

"Shut up, dude."

Once the pair of them had entered the car, they were surprised to find a familiar face sitting in the back. Kenny McCormick, clad in jeans, sneakers and a tuxedo shirt, smiled up at his two oldest friends. Next to Cartman, of course.

"Hey, dudes."

Heidi let Kyle sit beside her in the front, before looking up into the rear-view mirror to see Stan and Kenny in the back. "Hello, again Stan. I picked Kenny here up at the bar. Kyle said that would be the best place to find him."

Kenny grinned and turned to Stan. _"I was so gonna tap that until I found out who it was."_

Stan didn't know whether to laugh or reprimand his friend for his incredible sluttiness. He chose the former- but not before giving him a friendly high five.

Heidi frowned at the stereo. "This thing won't stop playing Canadian-only stations. You know I blame Canada for-"

"Yes, dear."

The car pulled out of the driveway as Stan and Kenny shared equally weirded out looks.

* * *

When they arrived at the part, the Gym was already filled with familiar faces. Kenny clocked the amount of time it took for Heidi to leave to find her old girlfriends at about five and a half seconds. With a sigh, Kenny raked his eyes over the crowd. It surprised even himself, when he smiled at some of the familiar faces in the crowd- especially at some of the people they had brought with them.

DogPoo had managed to find a fellow bum to go with him, although Kenny couldn't tell for the life of him if it was a guy or a girl. Token was standing on stage singing his heart out- wearing some kind of horribly tight, purple latex... thing, that even Kenny had to flinch at.

"Jesus Christ, check out Token!" he blurted out. Stan and Kyle glanced over, and burst into laughter. Kenny couldn't help but join them. Originally, Kenny had been somewhat wary of meeting up with everyone again- but there was two reasons why he came.

The first one was that he hadn't seen Stan and Kyle in _years..._Sure, he heard stories about Stan's Indiana Jones-esque adventures saving animals and small, poor villages. And he would have to be dead to not notice all of Kyles appearances on television. In fact, he had noticed despite actually being dead most of the time.

The second...

That was a little complicated. Cartman hadn't always been the best friend in the world, but he was by far the closest thing in the world he had to a brother. Even more than Kevin. Kenny would always be thankful though, that Cartman was _his _best friend. At least that meant none of those gay little chick flick moments Stan and Kyle were into.

Honestly, there was no better example of their bromance than J.D and Turk from 'Scrubs'.

"That was my hit song- Black Reign. Thank you for coming everyone. Its nice to see so many familiar faces out here tonight."

Kenny looked up at the stage, were Token was busy giving a fairly pretentious speech about the great memories of youth. Token had already been a dick with all the money he already had. Now that he was a famous singer... he was probably the biggest dick in the whole world.

For a second, Kenny's naturally vulgar mind linked what he had just thought with the large bulge that could be seen on Tokens crotch. He qas quick to shake his head to get the image out of his mind as soon as possible.

_'Latex belongs on girls. Seriously.'_ thought Kenny.

"LATEX BELONGS ON CHICKS TOKEN! SERIOUSLY!" yelled an all too familiar voice. As the crowd erupted into hysterical laughter, much to Tokens chagrin, Kenny moved his way through the crowd- and sure enough, he found Cartman standing by the snack table, chuckling snidely.

"Hey dude."

"Sup' Kenny."

Kenny stood beside Cartman, after taking a plate of food of course, and resumed watching the stage. Kyle and Stan were nowhere in sight, but Kenny didn't mind, and Cartman was silently thanking god for it.

"Alright, well..." Token started, still flustered from the past humiliation. It had been a while since someone put him down a peg. "Here's Jimmy Vulmer with some stand up comedy! Knock 'em dead Jim!"

Jimmy hadn't changed much either- other than the two inch thick glasses that he was now sporting.

"He-... Hello- everybody. Wow, what a terrific audience. So a priest, a horse and Mecha-Streeeeii-... Streeeiii-... M-Mecha-Streisand walk into a bar..."

Cartman and Kenny turned away from the stage and looked at the spread of snacks strewn across the table. "What have you been doing Kenny? Still poor?" Cartman asked, his mouth already packed with pretzels and potato chips.

"Yep. Are you still a pathological, manipulative psychopath?"

Cartman shrugged. "Probably."

Their conversation continued as time passed bye, slowly. Tweek and his 'supervisor' were sitting down on a chair on the other side of the gym, talking to Craig and Clyde. Token and Jimmy joined them after a while, and the five of them reminisced- although not particularly fondly. The girls were also grouped up talking up a storm- to which, naturally, Cartman snorted disapprovingly.

Stan and Kyle however, unlike Cartman and Kenny, were somewhat social by their very nature. Stan, despite not having spoken english for almost eight months- was chatting fondly with Timmy and Butters, and Kyle had managed to stir up a conversation with Red.

Red being the red-headed girl that neither Kenny or Cartman had ever bothered to learn the name of. But eventually, the four boys grouped back together by the snack table. The four boys, plus Butters. Just like it always had been.

Kyle and Cartman argued lightly while Kenny continued to stuff himself to his hearts content- leaving Stan and Butters free to talk by themselves.

"How... how have you been, Stan? I mean, after everything with Bebe..." Butters asked, nervously. Stan tried his best to resist flinching at the mention of her name. So far- for all of the time leading up to this all-of-a-sudden reunion, he had managed to avoid hearing her name being spoken at all. When he had first boarded that helicopter with Cartman, he had fully prepared himself to lash out as soon as Cartman mentioned her, but he never did.

Stan smiled weakly at Butters, and shrugged. He understood. Butters had been lucky in a way- when he lost his beloved Julie. He had the sort of personality that always looked on the bright side, and when that didn't work- he always had friends to depend on, like Lexus or Kenny.

Stan had been in a completely different situation.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing, Stan? Its like... three am..."

Stan flinched, and spun around on his chair to find himself face to face with Bebe. Her hair was messed up, and the black nightgown she had draped over herself practically dragged against the floor. Still, Stan couldn't help but feel his stomach lurch when he saw her.

Bebe Stevens was probably the prettiest girl in South Park- if not, all of Colorado. Her golden curls hung across her petite face, her long eyelashes seemed to contrast with her sapphire blue eyes in a way that made his knees weak. She gave him an all too familiar look, and Stan sighed.

"I'm sorry, Bebe. I've got to finish writing up this report before lunch time- and even after I do that I still have a lot of work to do..."

Bebe smiled at him, and yawned. "Alright Stan, but please try to get some sleep. I know your busy, but you really need to sleep."

As she left the room, Stan couldn't help but smile. This sort of thing was a daily occurrence for them. Stan's work kept him extremely busy- but he would always find time for her. Even if it meant sitting in the study and working for hours on end into the early hours of the morning.

Bebe already knew this about Stan- even before they started dating. Stan was a lot like Wendy in a lot of ways- always trying his best to stop people and animals from being hurt. The only difference was that Stan knew when to leave something alone and just continue with his own life.

Wendy never did. She had spent all of her high school years completely swamped with extra curricular activities of all kinds, and it wasn't long before she had been forced to break up with Stan. For the second time. She didn't want to, obviously. But she loved Stan, and she couldn't stand dissapointing him every day by missing a date, and not seeing each other for weeks on end.

After that, Stan had decided to hatch a few schemes to get her back. They weren't on-par with the sort of things Eric Cartman might do- but they were schemes all the same. And before too long, Stan managed to recruit Bebe onto his side. Bebe was just as concerned about Wendy as Stan was. She didn't want Wendy missing out on everything, so Stan and Bebe did their best to distract Wendy from her work- and maybe make her have a little fun.

But in the end, the only person who seemed to be able to cut right through Wendy's busy brain, was the master manipulator himself. Wendy and Cartman had an almost cyclone-like affect on each other. Cartman would breeze into whatever she was doing and send everything into complete and utter chaos, and Wendy was more than able to return the favour. Stan had initially been wary of asking for Cartmans help, but soon enough it became the only choice left.

And somewhere in all the chaos, Stan and Bebe just kept on getting closer and closer- until graduation day. The day they had to say goodbye to each other forever, and... they couldn't do it. So they stayed in touch for a while, and one night when Stan was in town for Butters' fourth wedding... one thing led to another- and a whole new world was introduced to them, by each other.

Watching Stan and Bebe after that was like watching an old 1930's movie. They were more than happy. They were perfect together.

They had been married for only three and a half years when it happened... when Stan got the call that Bebe was never going home ever again.

She was gone.

Stan had followed the same kind of self-destructive pattern that Butters did, but with no one around to help him... he almost destroyed himself. He consumed himself with work, getting into dangerous situation after dangerous situation, until he simply... burned out.

Only recently, Stan had started feeling a ghost of who he used to be- but it would never return completely. Because the day Bebe died, Stan died right along with her.

* * *

Butters cursed himself inwardly for bringing up the subject of Bebe. Stan had been completely silent for almost twenty minutes now- and it was all his fault.

But all of a sudden, Stan snapped out of it, and gave Butters a weak smile.

"I'm fine, dude."

Butters didn't believe him, but he pretended to anyway, before changing the subject. "Uh- I think I see Wendy over there Stan."

Stan rose his eyebrows and spun around in his spot. Sure enough, Wendy Testaburger herself was standing by the stage, talking to Heidi. Stan gave her a wave, and as soon as she saw him, she excused herself and rushed over to him.

Wendy, like everyone else, hadn't changed at all. It was as if instead of 'growing up', all of the personality traits that everyone had in grade school had simply... expanded, to great lengths. Tweek twitched considerably more often, Craig was definately much darker, and Clyde seemed to have developed an aversion to germs.

Wendy had just become successful- and much prettier. That was the extent of her change. She was stil kind and polite, and she still had a streak of evil inside her. But that was to be expected for the CEO of Green Industries. She was the deadliest thing in existance in the business world.

But outside of it, she was still the kind, beautiful girl she had been in the fourth grade.

The first thing Wendy did when she came over to the group, was give Stan a hug- and give a friendly hello to everyone else. Except of course to-

"What the hell are you doing here, fatass? I thought you were dead or something."

Cartman huffed at Wendys less than polite attitude. "Bitch, I just faked my death. I do it all the time, so get over it." Wendy rolled her eyes in responce, and was about to turn back around to Stan when she felt Cartmans hand on her shoulder.

"Wait."

Wendy froze, and so did Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Butters. Something about the tone of Cartmans voice... the look in his eyes. It had been there for only a second... but they had seen it.

Cartman cleared his throat, and forced himself to look her in the eyes. "Wendy... uh- all you guys... I'm sorry if I was ever a dick to you... 'cept Kyle- um, but your all pretty kewl. Like... seriously kewl... especially you, Wendy."

Wendy blinked. She was about to say something- but in a flash, Cartmans hand had left her shoulder, and with a short wave, Cartman threaded his way through the crowd and left the gym.

Wendy was just like everyone else. Completely incredulous to Cartmans words, and riddled with disbelief.

Sometimes during her lonelier nights she regretted not doing something, _anything _else with her life. During their younger years, Cartman had always been the source of motivation... and some part of her deep down... missed that. Whether she liked to admit it or not- what Cartman had just said... meant something.

* * *

"Alright, asshole. Its all done. I am totally regret free- can we fucking go now?"

The five of them, Kenny, Butters, Kyle, Stan and Wendy- had all made a decision. It was obvious that Cartman could never apologize, or even compliment them without something being seriously wrong. Even if he did purposely take Kyle completely out of the equation.

Apparently, they were right. Because when they followed Cartman outside in the snow- the found him standing on the sidewalk. Talking to himself.

"What? What do you mean, watching? Stop being a paranoid asshole!"

Cartman blinked, and then turned around to find himself face to face with a group of the five people he hated and liked most in the entire world. "God damn it you guys... can't you ever just leave me the fuck alone?" he asked, wearily.

Butters was about to say something- when all of a sudden there was an incredible white flash, and there, standing next to Cartman on the side walk was a small nine year old boy dressed from head to toe like a professional mercenary. It just so happened, that that was exactly the feild of work that he had been in before he died.

The Mole took a final puff of his cigarette, before dropping it to the ground and stomping on it.

"Right. Cartmen ez 'ere to make up fer 'iz past mistakes, zo 'e may be granted access to heaven." he grunted. "Zo, Eric, if you would be zo kind az to hurry up..."

Cartman sighed.

"Okay... god damn it... look, about a year ago- I... I died. But it turns out that I don't get to rest until I help out you five assholes- so I arranged to get you all here. I figured doing it under the guise of a reunion would be for the best..."

Cartman sighed again, and revealed everything.

After an unfortunate failure in the line of politics, he had been welcomed into the arms of the CIA. Within weeks, he had become a fully trained asset. He was a natural with weapons- and his manipulative skills were already the stuff of legend around the halls of the Pentagon- and top secret bases everywhere.

When Cartman told them this, naturally they didn't believe him. But Cartman was completely serious- and continued without taking any questions. He told them about some of the missions he had, even about killing the person responsible for Bebe's death off-grid.

He told Stan that he expected no thanks.

After an hour, Cartman took a deep breath. "So any way, I ended up dying. Don't ask me how, or I'll kick yer fuckin' ass. Anyway- after I left meh body, I met this asshole who told me that I had to take care of a bunch of regrets before I could pass on. So here I am, stuck on Earth like some lame-ass spirit."

"Correction- Cartmen. Your are a _fat_-ass spirit."

"Fuck you, Mole. Go get mauled by dogs again or something."

Suddenly- Cartmans body began to glow a beautiful bright white.

"Sheet. It iz happening zooner than I expected. You must be quick, Cartmen."

Cartman turned around to face the five faces that had the most affect on his life. Maybe deep down he _was_ honestly sorry and thankful to them. But some how, he doubted it. Maybe Wendy, but none of those other assholes. Still, if he wanted to get off of Earth, he had to do this. He had no choice, but to help them.

"Kahle, divorce your wife, because your obviously either gay or just really not suited to ever be in a relationship. Stan, Bebe was kewl, yeah. But you need to get the fuck back up or I'll get her down here to kick you in the nuts. She'd want you to be a big pussy again, like before. Kenny- just stop with the poor crap. Get a job or something you piece of shit, just because you die in the most horrific ways possible every day, doesn't mean you can slack off.

Butters, fuck that girl Lexus. She totally wants it, and you can have a bunch of whimpy-slut children be all gay for each other.

And Wendy... grow some fucking balls and be happy with your success. Its not like your dying or anything you stupid bitch- go out and find some hopeless guy and make him your slave. You've done it before."

Cartman smiled at all of the frowning faces glaring at him.

"Hate me if you want you guys. I'm always right."

And with that- he was gone.

* * *

_Fate is tricky, and so is Eric Cartman._

_Every so often, he would look up from his own personal little spot in Hell and watch as everything went the way he knew it would. It was as if, like everything else in his life, he had their lives planned out perfectly. And all of the pieces just kept on falling together nicely._

_Butters and Lexus started a family, Kyle became the first openly jewish President of the United States, Stan became a legend among animal activists, and Wendy became a god to activists of all kinds. Kenny raised a son by himself- despite constantly dying._

_Yes, all in all, everything pretty much happened the way he expected it too. And it was sooo boring. Cartman had already found a way to sneak into Heaven when his friends got there, so he guessed that he would be forced to wait before he could shake things up a little._

_The day his final plan on Earth came together with fluid ease, he felt like it had went by far too quickly. Like he had only had to blink, and there he was. Glowing and disappearing next to a French-Canadian angel._

_But he didn't have to worry. Because once he saw all of his old friends again, it would be the exactly the way it had been back then- only in a different place._

_Until then, he would waste his time telling Damien to go fuck himself and killing Pip over and over again._

_Cartman, Wendy, Stan, Bebe, Kenny, Kyle and Butters. Seven people who had seen more complicated, chaotic things than Satan himself. Cartman would know- he asked him._

_They would all be together again, and this time... with a whole bunch of different, interesting people._

_That is, if everything came together. Which for Cartman... it always did._

_That's just the way their world works._

_END_

* * *

(AN: This took a lot of effort- so I hope I have made at least one or two people happy with this. I _was_ totally going to try and involve the others more- but I decided to hang on my top Seven. Okay, here are a few explanations for those of you that are confused by this story.

I love the Candy ship with all of my heart- thus Cartmans slight OOC when it came to Wendy. I had hoped to have more time inbetween those two, but I realized early on that its really easy for Cartman to slip out of character when I write him with Wendy. I tried to give everyone little plot lines, Stans of course being the most prominent- next to Cartmans. And for those of you wondering who it was that showed up at Kennys apartment before the actual reunion- it was the Mole. Sorry, but I just didn't know how to fit in the whole 'Kenny already knew it all' thing into the story.

I tried my best to remain at least a little faithful to the South Park universe, and I hope that showed. This story is dedicated to 1220McCormick- whose story 'Beside Me in the Morning' is a constant source of inspiration and entertainment. I would also like to thank everyone who was nice enough to pity my 'the Blondes and the Bastard' story enough to 'favourite' it. Seriously, it means a lot.)

(PS: I realize that the ending was a little poor, and that I left a lot of plot lines unfinished. But that was sort of on purpose- for your imagination. If there is anyone out there who would like to use ANYTHING they think might be original from this story, please go ahead. It would be my honour.)

Please, review. But... be gentle. Believe me, no one is more critical of my work than myself.


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